I sense something skulking in the woods
It is darker than dusk
I see nothing; the evening is silent
No rustling, no twig snap
I do not know how I know
But I know
I head for my house
Expecting to get pounced and eaten
The traveler stands alone,
a trespasser in dust and rot,
and then the sounds begin.
not rain,
not time's heavy sigh,
but a persistent,
liquid malice striking a rusty pot
somewhere in the black gut of the house.
Drip
A tiny bullet of sound fired into the deep quiet.
Drip
The sound
a tiny hammer
on the anvil of silence,
chipping away at the night.
Drip
An unwelcome guest,
insistent
monotonous
filling the vast emptiness
with its small, steady rhythm.
Drip
Each drop a moment passing,
marked by the sound
in the dark heart of the night
i’m not a horrible person
but you make me think i am
you make me feel like
giving you a hug is a sin
i’m not a horrible person
i know i don’t communicate well
i don’t do well in crowds
and my talking skills aren’t very swell
i’m not a horrible person
but you leaving me out, everyone leaving me out
making me the second option
making me the villain, when i express my opinion
putting my feelings up on a pedestal for auction
i know im not a horrible person, but i don’t know about you.
there was horrible, terrible, awful news in the chicken house
the hens were in a frenzy, because of the red white-tailed louse
He had not only stolen their eggs, but devoured them too
Then he had done the ultimate sin- ran off with a chick, Little Lou.
I cement my seriousness with warm resolve
I have sixteen horrible math problems tonight to solve
If anyone despises mathematics, it is certainly I.
Every math problem except a word problem makes me cry.
Horrible Horrible Ghost Story
She Only Loved
Dancing Music
But Didn't Have
Meat.
-Gray Squirrel
05-17-2025
The water from these sinks is cloudy.
Everyone is,
Creeping around.
Faucets leaking.
I could have fixed everything.
Horrible places like this one.
Horrible places.
When I wake up.
There are more.
Every speck of light out there?
From headlights to storefronts.
Close my eyes and see map dots.
I could be in a worse place.
The faucets are leaky in here.
They told me it’s fine.
Dripping drool in my sleep.
When I wake up?
I wish I could sometimes.
It’s cold in here.
My breath is more breathless than usual.
As if there’s no sleep left in the world.
She handed me a cup and a handful of pills.
Sleep, or don’t.
She shrugs.
When I wake up.
She’s gone.
An empty cup is by my bed.
The water in the showers is probably rusty.
You can’t see rust in the water.
But it’s in the pipes.
It’s on my hands from turning the faucet on.
I could have fixed everything.
But all I have now is a rust shower.
It’s in the pipes, and I can’t stop it now.
Everyone in here is creeping around.
Sluggish or floating.
None of the water here is fresh or safe.
I’m convinced.
It makes us worse.
But we drink, anyway.
Men, especially male men are macho,
weirdos always less concerned and
thoughtful then women are. Take a look.
happens and rolls downhill.
So what! Who cares! Could care less!
What the hell. Not my fault. Had nothing
to do with it. There is nothing I can
do about it. Have been same all
of their lives and will never change.
Shortcomings exceed their attributes.
Dangling chads. Key pinch cards.
Full time job trying to be kind,
courteous thoughtful and sincere.
Chop off problem and throw away
like extremities in Civil War. Pile
becomes higher and higher.
Go to church, listen to what God has
to say and then go home and apply it.
That is the Trinity I know in my mind.
Migration is a problem that exists.
It has already happened so what
are you going to do about not condemning,
criticizing and complaining about it.
No action. No reaction or results.
Do nothing and nothing will happen.
You can listen but do not have to
do anything about it. Your choice.
God set standards for you to follow.
Never follow and suffer consequences.
Who cares what you think about problem.
What are you going to do to solve it.
each day in this cage feels like a hundred days
I cannot sleep here
there is too much yelling
too little comfort, the ambiance is horrible.
I feel guilty about not appreciating good food
or my fuzzy blankets and soft pillow
I resolve to pay attention to tulips when I am released.
no one comes to visit me
I have become someone to be shunned
Ignored, a nonentity, a non-person
I have never felt more alone or unloved
each time I hear a guard say someone else’s name
it feels like a sword in my back
for no one comes here to see me
prison is not a place for my people
she rebuffed his advances
he was more determined now
a horrible troll, a stalker, a misogamist
who thought what he wanted was of utmost importance
no matter who he had to violate, hurt, or abuse.
My pal Chimparoo had the angriest cat
No matter what you did, he was mean as a rat
Jumping up and down like a Johnny Jehosophat
Always being mean to others was that horrible cat
Chimparoo, why do you like this mongrel so?
He’s not as bad as you think, Chimparoo lied high and low.
We knew it was bad, we could hear the cat giving her hell.
But Chimparoo had a sweet temperament, she would never yell.
These horrible whispers are back again
They are telling me I should bring my life to an end
I fight the whispers back like a hero who is brave
But I know one day they will send me to my grave
They use to come so little but now so much
Stronger with every blow they can throw me with one touch
I'm beaten I'm worn the whispers are too strong
I need some help I don't have long
My armor is cracked and I can not mend
But these horrible whispers are back again...
Horrible, my map upended our time with boot camp son.
Horrible to get back to base, not be caught, had to run.
Horrible, to see Mom hurried into hospice, her hours few.
Horrible when we heard last sweet breaths, as time flew.
Horrible when a tree splintered the roof of our deck.
Horrible, the tree balancing, just above hubby, in check.
Horrible when eggshells were underfoot, a bad spell.
Horrible the slamming doors, curses and raising hell.
Horrible the gall stones and bladder, ended grand visit.
Horrible the nightmarish nettles that percoset gifted.
Horrible heaven’s so far away, like pot of gold source.
Horrible, like vagabonds, earthlings veer off course.
Horrible, the end of a savory and sweet meal.
Horrible the rancid leftovers of mortal ideals.
Horrible when poetry is no longer wielded, engaged.
Horrible when Armeggedon speaks, when war is waged.
I hurt him.
The one person I vowed to never hurt again.
The one person I was actually healing our friendship with.
I hurt him.
Again.
I was honest with my feelings,
on how I still loved him
but didn't wanna ruin what we had.
It hurt him.
He didn't talk to me.
He looked at me as if things were awkward again.
I made him feel like crap,
I know I did.
I feel like effing crap
because I made him feel that way..
I ruined everything..again..
I'm a eff up of a human being..
I don't deserve happiness,
I don't deserve love..
I'm a horrible person..
And a horrible person never deserves the good in life..
Horn Horrible Maine Haiku
when he would take aim
kill became terrible game
had received the blame
never gave a hoot
to death some people did shoot
would wear a brown boot
cannot bring them back
love and mental skills did lack
he had blown his stack
heard them when they bowl
their life away killer stole
death out he did dole
a sad song was sung
dying breath was on his tongue
death around had hung
possible motivate
was to not let others live
death to them did give
result a sad site
killed himself removing blight
shed tears day and night
James Truthful Honorable Horn
(Thomas)
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